Luke flashed a charming smile and pulled my hand into his, his touch unnervingly intimate.
“Don’t worry,” he said smoothly. “I have such a wonderful wife. She’ll definitely make sure I have enough for the surgery.” He turned to me expectantly. “Right, honey?”
Two pairs of eyes, filled with quiet calculation, watched me closely. I returned their gaze with a warm, reassuring smile.
“Of course,” I said. “I’m already in touch with a realtor about selling the house. We should have the money soon.”
I glanced at Willow, noting how her posture eased. She had been holding her breath.
“My mom also borrowed money from our relatives. We’ve scraped together about $10,000.”
Both Willow and Luke sighed in relief.
“That’s great,” Willow exclaimed. “We only have three days left before the surgery. Everything’s finally coming together!” Willow said enthusiastically.
If it had been before, I might have thought she was genuinely worried about me, about my struggle to gather the money. After all, we had grown up together, practically sisters. But after overhearing their conversation in the stairwell, I knew better. When she said everything was coming together, she wasn’t talking about the surgery. She was talking about their plan.
I studied them as they laughed together, utterly at ease, as if nothing serious was happening in three days. Not a trace of anxiety about the surgery in sight. My grip tightened slightly, but I kept my tone light.
“Willow,” I said, “I need to take care of some legal paperwork for selling the house. That means I won’t be around much for the next two days. Can I ask you to keep an eye on Luke? You know I can’t afford a nurse and I don’t know anyone else in this hospital. You’re the only one I can—”
“Of course!”
Willow answered before I even finished speaking. She bolted up from her seat with her eyes lit. She was so eager to agreed.
“Luke is your husband, which makes him like a brother to me. I’ll check in on him every thirty minutes. And when I’m not around, I’ll have the nurses keep an eye on him. Don’t worry. Just focus on selling the house and call me if you need anything.”
I pretended not to notice the excitement flickering in her eyes. Keeping my mask firmly in place, I thanked her enthusiastically before turning to leave the room.
But I didn’t go far.
I slipped into the corridor, waiting just beyond the bend where they wouldn’t see me. Ten minutes later, I crept back to the doorway, careful not to make a sound.
Just as I suspected—the room was filled with soft, breathless laughter.
“That idiot really didn’t suspect a thing,” Luke murmured. “She left the moment we complained about not having enough alone time. It’s like the universe is working to bring us together.”
Then, his tone shifted—low and teasing, thick with desire. “God, you don’t know how much I’ve missed you, baby. Since we finally have some time alone… how about we do something a little risky? There’s a bed here. Ever thought about doing it in a hospital?”
“Oh, you’re such a flirt,” Willow giggled.
“You drive me crazy, baby,” Luke said again.
“Alright, alright, but keep your voice down. We don’t want the nurses catching us. And be gentle. You know I’m on early pregnancy, the baby is fragile, I don’t want anything to happen to it.”
Then came the unmistakable sounds—lips meeting, clothing rustling.
My stomach twisted violently. I had to grip the wall to keep from collapsing. My vision blurred, my ears rang, but I forced myself to turn away before I did something reckless.
The betrayal was suffocating. I staggered down the hall, my hands trembling, my heart pounding so hard it hurt.
I wandered in a daze until I reached the nurses' station. There, I spotted a familiar face—a nurse I remembered from Willow’s past complaints. She’d mentioned her more than once, saying she was difficult to deal with.
Looking back now, that probably meant she was one of the few honest people in this hospital.
Using my concern for Luke as an excuse, I asked her to keep an eye on his condition while I was away.
She agreed without hesitation. She even refused a grand dollar bill I offered as a thank-you.
After exchanging numbers, I turned and walked away, Luke’s medical file clutched tightly in my hands.
They thought their plan was flawless. They thought they had accounted for everything. But they missed one crucial detail.
Luke wasn’t faking his illness.
He really was sick—just not with kidney failure. He had terminal liver cancer. When the first test result came out, I kept it from him, afraid the truth would break him. I had planned to inform the surgeon just before the procedure so they could reassess his treatment.
But now, after seeing his true colors, I make my own plan.
I found a realtor and sold our house for far below market value. With Luke’s signed authorization, the deal was finalized on the spot.
The moment the money hit my account, I transferred every last cent to my mom, labeling it as financial support. My phone rang almost immediately.
“Sweetheart, did you send this by mistake?” she asked, her voice thick with confusion. “Aren’t you raising up money for Luke’s surgery? Why would you transfer everything to me?”
